Halfblood
by Keita
Summary: What happens when a Stormwing goes too far with a commoner? Jazika. Status: Comatose. Not quite dead, but don't be expecting any updates...
1. Halfblood

***sigh* All my other fics have caught plot-cancer and have died. So my muse decided to be nice this time and gave me an idea and blessed me with a workable PLOT! Thank the winds, rains, fires, and earth! YAY! Woohoo! *smile***

I yawned and stretched my wings, quickly tucking them back in as the early dawn sunlight caught the silver glint of my feathers, sending of little pinpoints of light in every direction. Muttering obscenities to myself, I cursed for being stupid enough to actually stretch my wings before having a chance to disguise them. Quickly settling myself down more firmly on the tree branch I opening my pouch and took out my assorted plant dyes, touching up the spots where my silver showed through. Once I had finished, I had effectively covered my wings in a mottled pattern of brown, not unlike that of a hawk. I sighed and thought of what had forced me to cover up my glorious wings, for fear of being killed at first sight.

My father had been a Stormwing, one of the first to cross the barrier and become employed --enslaved-- by the human mages that brought him here. A year before the official start of the "Immortals War" he had beaten and raped a commoner. Fortunately she had not survived the birth, and was able to preserve whatever dignity she had in death by no-one knowing of the child. The midwife, and odd woman, had no idea what I was. I simply seemed downright magical with my wide eyes and large, razor sharp, silver wings. She named me Jazika.

Once the war broke out the midwife was forced to say that she had killed the baby, while in reality she could not bear to see me hurt. By the time I reached the age of 11, the midwife had died, and I was left to fend for myself, a fugitive, completely unknown the world. It was then that I truly began to explore my immortal and human sides.

I had lost my Stormwing magic but kept immortality, lost  Stormwing feet but kept the silver wings, lost the Stormwing's desire to desecrate the dead and feed of fear but kept a Stormwing's cold-heartedness. All in all, with the possible combinations counted, I had gotten the best of both worlds. That, and I was blessed with arms. Whatever God was watching over that, I blessed it everyday. With arms I could learn the hold a weapon, and hold a weapon I did. Becoming reasonably adept with some throwing daggers and knives, I managed to scrounge up a living, keeping a low profile, never needing to eat. Thus was my life so far, always moving always running. I didn't mind, I liked this kind of life, no-one to question me, nothing to have to be responsible for, nothing holding my back or tying my down.

Finally done covering up my wings I glanced down at the packet of plant dyes, they were almost all used up, I would have to steal some more from somewhere. I sighed. Time to move onto the next town. After flying low over the trees for a day and finding no-place to grab any supplies I ruffled my feathers and settled down in an oak tree for the night. Almost immediately the dream started.

I was in a dark expanse of nothingness, with no light at all, yet I could see myself clearly as if illuminated by the noontime sun. Out of no-where a pale black haired man stepped in. I looked at him confused, until I saw his odd eyes, which seemed to stretch forever into the depths of him. Gainel, I thought. What was he doing in my dreams personally? Didn't he usually send his dream-creatures to do his bidding? He began to speak.

_I would normally not be here, but because you are such a rare creature, and because a goddess whom I owe a favour has taken a liking to you, I'm here to explain things. As you know, your father was a Stormwing. What you do not know is that your species has an actual name. You are a halfblood, or a halfling, as the more familiar term. You are the first halfblood to reach your age since decades before the immortals were locked away in the Divine Realms. All the others were quickly discovered and killed within their first 3 months of existence. You on the other hand have managed to survive further than that._

"I can see that" I answered dryly.

­_What you DON'T see is that you're in danger now. There is a delicate balance between you divine and mortal blood. During adolescence, with all it's changes, the balance is continually disrupted. You need to make them whole again. Usually this isn't a problem, as halflings usually know who their parents are. You on the other hand, don't. As a Stormwing Halfblood you would need a lock of your mortal parent's hair and a feather from the other. You mortal parent is dead, so you must find your father._

"He's ALIVE?" I yelled, "What are the chances of that?"

_You'll simply need to cut yourself with your fathers feather to become whole with both sides again. You have until the minute before you turn 16 to do this._

"And if I don't?"

_You'll die._

I stood there stunned.

_That's all I can tell you. Be warned though. Because you do not have an object from your mortal parent, the feather will balance your blood, but bring you closer to a Stormwing's mentality. You won't change physically, but, your mind will change, I don't know how. That is all._

And he disappeared.

I woke up. What an odd dream. The most logical thing to believe is that it was completely true, as Gainel didn't allow an apparition of himself appear in dream and lie. That would be too confusing. As the dawn broke over, I sat up and stretched. My paint was chipping. Soon it would all become visible. Damn. An old woman suddenly appeared on the ground below me. 

"Well don't just sit there! Get down here so we can have a civilized conversation!" she scolded.

I bit my tongue and complied. I had the idea that she was just about as normal as my dream was.

"You understood your dream, yes?"

I nodded, still not speaking.

"I'm that goddess you decided to dote on you. I've been so bored lately and you're such a rare occurrence I decided to help. Well, not only the Great Mother Goddess is allowed to have Chosen ones! No ridiculous purple eyes or talking cats for you though. That's a bit too obvious, though with your wings, you don't NEED anything else." she cackled. I was sure who it was now. The Graveyard Hag. What she meant by talking cats though, I had no idea. Purple eyes might have meant the Lioness, I heard somewhere that she had been picked by the Goddess. I didn't generally hear much news as I kept to myself most of the time. I cleared my throat. She looked at me.

"Can you help me? At least tell me where to look? Is he locked up in the Divine Realms, or is he still here? Better yet, is he still in Tortall?"

She answered me with a grin, "I may not make things easy for my followers, but I don't make it impossible. Your task is daunting as it is. I won't make you travel to the Divine Realms. He's here, most likely at the Scanran border with all that fighting going on."

I thanked her and she tapped her stick on the ground and disappeared. Scanran border eh? I've a loooong way to go. Because my plant dyes were completely chipping, I had to travel by night, and avoid all travelers. Taking the curvy slow path that I had to travel by, I got to the border about a week later. Tired, frustrated and scared, I camped in a tree at the edge of a forest, with the lights of some fort glimmering in the darkness ahead of me. I put on my good clothes, of which I had only one pair. It was a light brown shirt and a forest green tunic with brown breeches. All in all, it helped me blend in nicely with the forest. The clothes of course had to altered by me to fit over my wings. The tunic and shirt had neatly hemmed holes in the back and they buttoned up in under my wings so I didn't have to pull anything over the razor sharp steel. I pulled my hair back in two low far-back horsetails. Well, I wanted to look good, not like some uncivilised wild-bird-child.

Tired as I was, I didn't keep my wings in the curled up position I usually held while sleeping, my wings covering me in a blanket of metal, protecting me from arrows and other stealthy attacks. As I slept fitfully, I turned over so that I was on my front on the branch. Unbeknownst to me, my wing slipped down, spread open to full size, nearly touched the ground from the branch I lay on, glinting in the moonlight.

I awoke to the sound of freshly drawn steel. Startled I looked up, cursing, I withdrew my almost entirely silver wing. I stood up and looked at the grim faces of the men surrounding my tree. Silently I examined every one of them. Startled I glanced at one of them again. A WOMAN? Surely this was not the Lioness. From all the tales I heard of her she was a fiery red-head. This one was not. She was a cool, collected brunette. A fighter for sure, from the way she held her weapon, a large scythe type thing, with easy grace. I looked at her tunic, and the crest embroidered there. An owl. I smiled. I always liked owls. So silent and deadly, fearless and calm. It was certainly an appropriate crest for such a woman. She spoke.

"What are you? Another Scanran creation?"

A forgotten bit of my dream flitted through my head. Gainel was saying, _You__ cannot do this alone, and as much as you hate it, you will have to reveal your purpose and identity for the allies I will send you._

Surely these were my allies. I relaxed and leaned against the tree. It was time to be utterly confusing and all-knowing. I loved this act.

"I am a no-ones slave. I am the only one of my kind and you are," I paused dramatically, "my allies."

They all frowned and held their weapons tighter. 

"What do you mean?" Asked the female warily. Not afraid, just suspicious. I watched as she reached into her pouch and pulled out a headband and put it on. She raised her eyebrows.

"You're real. No illusions. Those wings are real." She stated flatly.

"Yes," I replied "And how in the blazes are you going to help me if you won't put those bloody weapons down!"

Finally one of the men couldn't hold his tongue anymore.

"Why would WE help YOU!?"

"He didn't tell you? Damn, now I'm going to have to explain." I sighed. This would have been easier if they knew what I was talking about.

"Gainel said that he would send allies to help me because I'm oh-so special and you seem to be the people he was talking about. Happy?"

"Gainel? The Dream God?"

I nodded.

"Well then, I suppose we must help. I didn't even ask how she knew it was the truth. I noticed a man dipping his hands into a pouch and nodding to her. Probably a truth spell of some kind. Keeping their weapons trained on me, the woman invited me to come into Haven and talk about this. I smiled. Good. I spread my wings, shook off and remaining chips of dye, and jumped down. Most of the men paled. I have to say, my wings were impressive. 

Glittering, razor sharp silver, with each feather etched perfectly, my wingspan was about 14 feet from tip to tip. As they walked, I flew over their heads, twirling and dipping in a fantastic, if arrogant, show of my skills. The usual Stormwing lack of grace was softened by my human mother's traits, who I heard somewhere was a beautiful dancer. I swooped over the walls of the fort, generating gasps of fear from those inside. Something within me grinned. I smiled. Then blinked. I seemed to be more Stormwing-ish than I suspected. I felt the fear resonating off of the guards on duty and seemed to enjoy it. What would happen if I succeeded in finding my father? Would I succumb to my Stormwing side? I pushed that away and landed gracefully (thankfully). I then followed the woman, Lady Keladry, from the talking I overheard, into one of the buildings.

Well, hopefully this fic won't catch the plot-cancer that I continuously seem to pass onto all my fics. *hopeful grin*. I actually HAVE a plot for this story. Which is good. It better not die on me, or a CERTAIN little flying muse will find himself served on a silver platter with an apple shoved in his nattering little beak. 

No matter, I'll continue it, as far as I can, hopefully to the end. Hopefully.


	2. Allies

**Oh ya this takes place after LK, when Kel's back at ****New Hope****. Just ta let ya know.**

She led me inside, and through a narrow hallway. I winced as my wings scraped the walls and doorways, they simply didn't fit. I had to walk extra-carefully to not put deep scratches in the wood. We stepped inside of a room that looked to be an office or study of some kind. She sat down at a desk and offered me a seat. I looked at it, pondering how I could sit down. She realized my predicament frowned. Finally I spread my wings as far as I could in the small room, sat down, and tucked them back in behind me. More scratches. I was going to leave this place desperate for a sanding once I left.

"Alright. Please explain everything from start to finish."

I sighed. As much as I hated heart-breaking life stories and gut spilling sob sessions, I would have to tell all. So I began. After quite a few pauses in the middle of events to adjust my wings, the story finally came out. Piece by piece. The midwife, the hiding, the freedom, the gods, the imbalance, my quest. Once I had finished the Lady Knight spoke.

"What I don't understand is why the gods would choose me to help you. I already abandoned my duties once, I doubt I could just take off because someone told me the gods said so."

"You're absolutely right. Which is why I really don't want your help. If you'd just tell me the places of recent battles, I'll be on my way Lady Keladry."

Suddenly a wind picked up and started throwing things around outside. It was as clear as day that someone wasn't happy with that solution. Keladry realized that as well. She sighed.

"It looks as though we'll be together for some time. You may as well call me Kel."

I managed a lop-sided grin. How on earth was I going to manage with people? I had been on my own for the past 4 years, ever since the midwife died when I was 11.

"Thank you," I replied, "ummm, forgive me for asking but, who exactly are you. I get the idea that you're the second lady knight, but what are you doing here? In a fort that YOU seem to be in charge of. Don't knights usually serve under a commander?"

I struck a nerve.

"_Lord_ Wyldon decided that I was the only person for the job of commanding a refugee camp." She stated flatly. She said this as emotionlessly as possible, but I could sense an undertone of anger. Looks like someone has a grudge. A subject change was in order.

"How will we manage this?" I asked, "Where do we start, who do we take, what do we take, how do we get out of here, when do we go?"

"I have no idea." Kel replied completely frank. "We'll just figure it out in the morning. I'll show you to your room."

I raised an eyebrow. I would lacerate the bed before morning.

"Could I sleep in a tree or something? Are there any trees within the camp?"

"She shook her head. "I can't let you go out in the forest. We get attacked too often by Scanrans for it to be safe for even one night. The roof might work though." 

I agreed and climbed out the window, much to her amusement. I just couldn't wait to be outside. Walls and a ceiling restricted me so much. It was like an a itch I couldn't scratch. I nestled myself in beside one of the chimneys and waved goodnight. She closed the shutters and blew out the lights. I closed my eyes, wondering what Gainel had to talk to me about now.

I shouldn't have been so cocky. I think just to spite me he gave me a completely dreamless sleep. Fortunately for me, it was quite restful. I awoke before dawn, as to not scare the refugees out of their wits. Gee, I thought, I didn't know I cared. I rustled my wings, finally able to stretch them out without fear. By now I supposed most of the people within Haven had heard about me, most likely none of it true. I swooped down and began to peek through the windows. Through one was Lady Keladry swinging her scythe-weapon. I would have to ask her what it was, it looked very exotic and dangerous. I watched her and once she had finished I swooped down to land and sit on the windowsill. She glanced at me, not in the least surprised.

"Bad news," she said "I sent a runner out last night to ask permission to go with you. I got a reply back just this morning. I'm not allowed. Obviously they still remember what happened last time I ran off, so they've threatened me with being forced to go to EVERY court function when the war is over. I may not be Raoul, but even THAT scares me. I won't abandon my people. I can't even send some of my men to help you, I can't afford to be even one man short. Sorry."

That short speech over, she went back to her exercises.

"I guess I'll be going then, Lady Keladry. No point loitering around here and longer." I must have said this a bit bitterly because she looked up at me with sadness in her eyes. I stood up and leapt out the window. There had supposedly been a rather large battle somewhere east of here. I decided to go that way. I had no idea how to find my father though, any Stormwing could have done what he did. How would I know for sure who he was? I decided that I would think of that when I got there. 

The sun was still barely up in the sky when I heard the pounding of hooves behind me. I twisted around sharply in the air, to see a lone man on horseback galloping down the road I followed. I raised my eyebrows at his audacity and grabbed one of my knives. I wasn't a very good shot, but I had the advantage of height. He stopped and got off his horse, a large piebald mare, gelding, stallion? I couldn't tell. He wore a typical woodsman or hunter's clothes, made for comfort and camouflage. A refugee from Haven most likely. His hair was a nondescript brownish color and his features quite plain. His shoulders filled his tunic nicely though, and I could tell he was no weak merchant by the way he carried himself. 

"Ja-Jazika?" He asked hesitantly.

"Mmmmmhhhmmmm" I answered lazily. He was no threat.

"I uhhh, _overheard_ your conversation with Lady Keladry and since she couldn't send out 'er men with you, I thought, maybe…" He trailed off.

Aha. My allies… errr… ally. One was better than none though, and he certainly look as though he could pull his weight and then some. 

My unsocialbleness was catching up to me. I was starting to feel the effect of keeping everything inside. I realized this when I spoke to Lady Keladry about my life. I needed to talk, laugh, share. I wasn't going to turn away the opportunity of having a companion, whatever his motives, for my journey.

"I would appreciate it if you came. I can use all the help I can get. Who are you?"

"The name's Ret th' Woodsman."

"The Woodsman? Not exactly too imaginative are you?" I said laughingly.

"I hear you go by the name Jazika the Halfblood."

I raised my hands in defeat.

"Fine truce. We both have REALLY dumb names."

He rubbed his neck. I realized that I couldn't keep this up or he would go stiff from looking up. I landed gently beside him, his horse surprisingly only given the slightest twitch of an ear.

"We need t'rest, I rode my mare hard to catch up to you. She can't go much further without straining 'erself." He said apologetically.

"I don't mind. I'm not in that much of a rush actually. I'm only fifteen which gives me… slightly less than a year to find him. It can't be that hard right?"

"Fifteen? Really? I expected you t'be much older than that. You look so much older! Then again, I really shouldn't judge people, I'm only sixteen myself."

Sixteen? He certainly had come by manhood early.

"We'll stop here and rest if you like," I said, "Eat something. You look hungry."

On cue, his stomach growled. 

"I'll fix you something as well if ya like," he said "I've some traveling food in my saddlebags."

I shook my head. I didn't need to food to live. Being an immortal certainly did have it's benefits. I would be dead if it weren't for that.

"I don't need to eat. I only do when it's something tasty."

He nodded and walked his mare over to the side of the road. I followed, thankful for the sturdy shoes I had on. I wasn't used to walking. It felt so odd. He let his mare graze while he rifled through his bags. I sat in a tree, watching him, wondering what kind of partner he would be…

Yup, more! Yay! :oD 

I have 8 unfinished and dead stories written down. Not to mention the 3 that I have in my head and I haven't put on paper or hard disk! Geeez. Would you believe that? My plot-cancer is ridiculously lethal! 

**I hope I finish this one. I better. I have a plot for this one! I promise! Sort of...**


	3. BattleMadness

I'm on a roll. I just finished writing chapter 5 of Cliché and now I'm writing this. I'm not used to such productivity! Well, it's productivity on MY scale, probably not a regular persons. *sigh* Inspiration for already started fics is SOOO hard to come by for me. I was lucky THIS chapter even existed at all, I'm just feverishly hoping I can squeeze another one out, but don't get your hopes up.

This chapter is a bit angsty and questiony… Not great at all.

Once he put out the fire and saddled up his horse again, we were off, me lazily flying overhead and him ambling along underneath me. I noticed some flashes of metal up ahead, in a large plain of some sort. Flying higher I scouted out what was going on. Was this the battle they were talking about? If it was, the Stormwings were long gone. I searched vainly for glints of sliver, but saw only those belonging to weapons, not steel wings. I flew down and landed bedside Ret.

"The battle is just up ahead. It's a bloody mess. Can't even tell who won."

"You should stay walking. Who knows how the survivors will react. They probably just had some bad experiences with th' Stormwings." He said

I agreed. He slowed his horse down to match my pace, and we walked into the largest massacre I'd ever seen. It was a veritable bloodbath. Soldiers had been literally butchered on both sides. It certainly looked as though Slaughter had had some merriment here. We had gotten around 6 paces into the battlefield when Ret leapt off his mare and ran to the bushes. I waited patiently while he retched the remainder of his lunch. For once, I was grateful for my detachedness. 

Being part Stormwing the stench and sights didn't bother me the least. In fact, the fear and pain emanating off these people was somewhat… nice. I drank it all in. I even had the urge to spread my wings and fly above those maimed, to really scare them witless. I had unfolded my wings without even realizing. The sound of Ret staggering back towards me shook me out of my morbid reverie. My human side still rebelled against desecrating the dead, no matter how much the Stormwing side wanted to. What would I become one I found my father? What would I do? 

As I thought about these things I didn't notice that Ret was still dazed and completely woozy from the battlefield we were walking through, and that some battle-crazed soldier was picking himself off of the ground and stumbling towards me, ax raised. In fact, I didn't notice him until the sharp clang and scratch of steel hitting steel jolted me out of my depression. Out of sheer instinct, I fought him Stormwing style. 

I spread my wings and turned around quickly, slicing his chest open and plunging feathers into his neck. He died without a sound, the crazed battle-light never leaving his eyes. The grating sound of ax on wings also startled Ret out of his daze.

"We need to get out o' here," he whispered urgently, "Who knows how many more like 'im there are!"

I nodded dumbly, still soaking in the fact that I felt no sickness, no remorse, over the man that I had killed in cold blood. I tucked in my bloody wings and we ran. I didn't want to risk flying. When we finally crossed that scene of carnage, we both breathed a sigh of relief, mine more audible than his.

"What went on there Ret? Can you tell who won?"

"No idea. I'm a hunter, not a warrior. The battle was most likely a huge one though, both armies coming head to head in that field with the hopes of destroyin' one another. I'd say it around half a day ago because the dead haven't been buried yet. There probably wasn't enough time, when they were retreating. Which ever side was retreating…"

I nodded, turning away from the bloodbath behind me. I was still trying to quell the urges to go out there, and do what Stormwings did. I guess Ret noticed this because he offered to lead us over to a small tributary of the Vassa that he knew about, so he could water his horse, and so I more importantly could wash off the blood. As we walked we started to talk.

"What will I do when I find my father? I if find him." I asked, "Will you be safe from me once that happens? Are you sure you want to keep going with me? I mean you saw what happened back there, we'll be seeing a lot more of that, are you sure--"

"Calm _down_ Jazika," he interjected, "Yes I'm sure I want to continue with you. I've got nothing better t'do."

"Gee, thanks." I drawled.

He laughed, and said "Well, here we are. How do ya aim on washing that blood off though?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Well it involves you turning around…"

He laughed again and complied, tying up his mare and starting a smokeless campfire. I walked a little ways downstream, behind an over hanging willow that had grown very conveniently so that it's branches made almost a curtain around a small section of stream. Draping my clothes over a branch, I jumped in. The water was freezing! I couldn't touch my wings, so I just swished them around, hoping that the blood would come off nicely.

For some reason this particular kill disturbed me. It wasn't the first time I'd killed a man, and it wouldn't be that last, but the way…and the atmosphere, it chilled me. How many times would I kill before the end of my lifetime? Thousands? It was theoreticly possible I could live for centuries upon centuries. Could I watch everyone I knew grow old and die while I remained eternally youthful? Being a half-human I doubted that I would ever have friends among the Stormwings. I barely lasted 4 years without human contact, could I last centuries? Would it be better to just forget this search and die at 16? 

The smell from the cook-fire roused me from my train of thoughts. I shivered from the cold and stepped out from the stream shaking myself off. I fanned my wings to dry myself off somewhat and quickly dressed in my still somewhat clean clothes. As I walked over to the fire, Ret was eating silently. I sat down beside him and gazed into the fire, entranced by the flames. The last thought that snuck into my mind before I slipped into my dreams was, would it be better if I stopped looking? Would it…?

**There ya'll go. A new chapter. I'm so shocked with myself. So much Inspiration hitting me at one time. It's crazy. I'm used to going 7 months at a time without writing a single thing except random bad poetry. Yes, that's how bad my periods of un-inspiration are. I'm dead serious. I started all my fics in one crazy month of writing, plus I also started like 6 others then that I haven't even written down yet. I wasn't ever expecting to follow up on these….**

**Awwww… my chapters are getting shorter and shorter. I'll try and make the next one longer k?**


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